Within the Shadows
by Aelaer
Summary: Wong studied him. "Do you think you can beat him?" / Stephen owed him the truth. "I don't know." / We're not in Kansas anymore.
1. Chapter 1

This was meant to be a one-shot. Then I somehow wrote a good 15k words (40 pages) in the course of a week, so I split it up into three chapters. I've never written so fast in my life. The rest of the story will be posted throughout this week.

The original prompt and bingo squares this fills are spoilers for the fic and will be revealed in the last chapter. For the purposes of this AU, Thanos has not started his rock collection yet.

* * *

Stephen found him in Sokovia.

It wasn't challenging to find him, once he had the tools to do so; despite their differences, they thought very similarly. That similarity painted a clear path to his current hideaway, though the speed at which he discovered him boggled the others (so few others).

"Stephen," said Wong after a pregnant pause. "You must realize that if you pursue him, you pursue him alone. We do not have the numbers or the strength to challenge him, and we have other duties to this world that we must remain alive for."

He pursed his lips together, then nodded once sharply. "No, I— I would not ask that of you. Not after all you've done for me. But it seems fitting that I am here to challenge him."

Wong studied him. "Do you think you can beat him?"

He owed him the truth. "I don't know."

* * *

_Stephen staggered out of the Sanctum, dust all over his robes and cobwebs in his hair. He coughed and looked at the building in growing horror._

_It was in complete shambles. Several holes punctured the windows and the facade was crumbling. Its concealment spells still seemed to be at work for absolutely no one paid it any attention— but for the Cauldron of the Cosmos to have caused such damage was unfathomable! At least it seemed to only damage the building itself and no one outside. And he was relatively unharmed, even if he was filthy (and where had all this dust come from? Honestly, he thought he kept a better job at keeping the place clean)._

_A couple people on the street gave him odd looks. He ignored them as he considered the problem before him._

_Well, he would do his best to repair the damage before any of the other masters showed up. Stephen was not entirely sure if the Cauldron's little fit (seriously, what the hell was that?) shook the proverbial mystical webs about the world enough to alert them immediately, but if not, he'd do his best to clean things up inside before someone came visiting. He'd work on repairing the building's facade later. _

_With that tedious task in mind, Stephen sighed and crossed the street to go back inside. He was on the steps of the Sanctum when a bright red streak flew across the sky. _

_He quickly stepped up to the door and, now fully within the concealing shields of the Sanctum, watched as the red streak circled around and then hovered about thirty feet above the street. Stephen squinted; was that… a metal suit?_

_Several people took out their phones and began to film the suit, and he heard a couple people whoop and shout, "Yeah, Iron Man!"_

_The armored man landed in the street to a few cheers. He turned to the crowd across the street and removed his helmet; Stephen saw a crown of brown, wavy hair and little else. "Hey— any of you see anything weird in the last few minutes? Got an unusual energy spike near this spot." The voice sounded oddly familiar, but he couldn't place it. _

_The answers weren't helpful. "Nothing weirder than usual for this city!" "Can I get a photo with you?" "The Village always has weird things!" "I love you, Tony!"_

_As Stephen's brow furrowed in confusion, the armored man turned around to look at where the magically concealed Sanctum stood. Even he was not so isolated from the world that he would not recognize the visage of Tony Stark. _

_He staggered against the door in a mixture of surprise, horror, and confusion. His mind spiraled even as the spell did its magic and Tony Stark eventually flew off. _

_What the hell was going on? _

* * *

Sokovia's capital city of Novi Grad had been devastated in some sort of robot attack a few years ago. It was rebuilt about twenty or so miles away, but very few came to the site of all the destruction and death surrounding the torn earth, for the largely unstable ground combined with the memories kept all but the most daring— or most stupid— away from the gaping abyss of what was once a sprawling Eastern European metropolis.

It was a perfect place for a fugitive of the world to rest in his downtime, Stephen supposed. It _did_ mean that there was very little chance of any innocents being pulled into the conflict, for which he was very thankful.

He did not take much with him; a Sling Ring, nonperishable food, plenty of water, basic first aid items, phone, a coat, and a handful of euros made up his supplies.

"Do not use any magic within the borders of Sokovia until you are ready to face him," Wong warned as he gathered the last of his supplies. "He will detect the presence of magic and he will use that to his advantage."

"Noted," Stephen answered. "I remember you saying something of the like, but I did not realize his range was so large. I was planning on portalling into Brno; it's the closest major city to Sokovia's borders. I can take a bus from there to the new capital."

Wong watched as he pulled on the overcoat, more or less covering up his sorcerer's garb. "Stephen." The doctor turned to look at the man— a man he considered a friend. "This is not your fault."

He could not help the dry, humorless laugh that escaped him. "If anyone is at fault, it's most certainly me."

His comment was ignored. "We could continue to use your help here. This plan of yours— it is rash. You're more good to us alive than dead."

Stephen swallowed heavily and looked away. "I have to try. I can't— I can't remain in the shadows any longer, Wong. I _have_ to try." He made to speak further, but his words failed him. Eventually he managed, "Thank you. For everything." With that, he shouldered his small knapsack and made his way to the exit. He did not look back.

* * *

_The interior of the Sanctum was in complete shambles and likely did not have the information he needed. So he went somewhere that he knew would. A few blocks west later found Stephen at the Hudson Park Branch of the New York City Library. _

_It was easy to find a computer that had a user session still logged in. Ignoring all the looks his outfit garnered him (he was immune to them at this point), he opened up a new browser, then brought his shaking hands to the keyboard and carefully typed 'Tony Stark' into the search box._

_His hand shook more as he eyed the images and clicked on the Wikipedia link. _

_'Anthony Edward "Tony" Stark (born May 29, 1970), also known by the moniker "Iron Man", is a billionaire industrialist, a founding member of the Avengers, and the former CEO of Stark Industries, a company originally started by his father, Howard Stark.[4][5][6] In 2008 he was named Time magazine's "Person of the Year".[7] In December 2015, he was ranked 7th on the Forbes list of The World's Most Powerful People.[8] As of April 2018, he has a net worth of $12.4 billion and is listed by Forbes as the 110th-richest person in the world.[9]'_

_He took a moment to steady his breathing before reading further._

_2008: kidnapping and news-shaking press conferences, one after the other. 2010: Senate hearing, new CEO. 2012: the attack on New York. The Avengers. _

_Stephen took another shaky breath as he stopped reading and eyed the images accompanying the article. Anyone could edit Wikipedia, but this was entirely too much. Furthermore, the resource links led to The New York Times, Time Magazine, and the official Stark Industries website (and a couple clicks confirmed the stated information)._

_On top of all that, he'd seen the damn suit not twenty minutes ago._

_He leaned back in his chair and placed a hand over his mouth as he stared at the screen. The Cauldron of the Cosmos didn't just trash the Sanctum; it trashed the Sanctum and threw him into an alternate universe._

_Shit._

_He sat there for a few minutes, considering his next move. The Sanctum, while looking rather worse for wear, was still in full working condition and protecting the world; it was not an immediate concern. What he needed, however, was information; only he knew the differences between this world and his own and he could not waste time bothering the Masters of the Mystic Arts here on information easily obtained from Google._

_Speaking of…_

_Stephen typed in his own name (with accolades, naturally) and quickly found the article about the accident dated February 3, 2016. He skimmed it over, found no information contradicting his own history, and moved on. He spent more time trying to see what happened after, searching through death certificates and small articles dated after 2016._

_He found nothing. Assuming his other self wasn't dead (and wasn't that a depressing thought), it was likely that he held a similar position as he had in his own reality. It was strange (hah) to consider that, but together they probably could work something out._

_In the meantime, the library was open for another few hours and he might be stuck here for a bit. He had a lot of catching up to do; if Tony Stark was like _that_, there was no telling what other things might be going on._

_So he opened up several news sites and began to read._

* * *

Google Maps gave him a reference image to a quiet, dark alley in Brno. After a quick exchange of a few euros to the Czech koruna at one of the many currency exchange stops in the tourist-heavy town, Stephen bought a bus ticket to Novi Grad.

It was a couple hours until his bus left, so he took to wandering around the historical center of the city. He'd never been to the Czech Republic before; even with the ability to travel anywhere in the world in just a few steps, he found himself more often than not enclosed within the Sanctum or Kamar-Taj, working. When he did travel, it was to combat some sort of threat or pick up a stray relic or magical artifact.

He honestly couldn't remember the last time he traveled simply to enjoy himself.

It wasn't very easy to enjoy himself now, either; even as he appreciated the aesthetics around him, a small timer counted down in the back of his mind the hours that may very well be the final ones of his life.

It didn't matter; as he told Wong, he could not remain in the shadows any longer. In his opinion, he had already wasted too much time. But as he was refraining from using magic at this moment, a few more hours were available to waste until he met whatever came to pass.

And so Stephen let his feet stray aimlessly along old cobbled roads and he admired the scenery.

* * *

_The news was concerning. Half the Avengers being fugitives of the US government was not optimal in any sense of the word. He was used to them being on hand to deal with Earth's more mundane threats (and the occasional alien). Even if they hadn't looked at Tony Stark yet…_

_But that was his reality. This reality was so different with many changes between their events within the last ten years, and he imagined that the further he looked, the more he would find._

_The library, however, was only open for so many hours, and he did eventually have to speak to the sorcerers within this universe. He focused his research efforts on not just Tony Stark and the happenings surrounding the Avengers, but what sort of threats this world had dealt with within the last couple years that could potentially be something he could assist with before getting back home (if assistance was needed)._

_The last heavily publicised alien invasion matched his own reality's with Thor's troubles in Greenwich in 2013. From there, all the troubles turned to more earthly matters that completely differentiated from his own history: the destruction of Sokovia's capital, the disaster in Lagos, the Accords, the split of the Avengers. After 2016, however, news slowed down to a trickle regarding those issues beyond smaller events and the political pressures that were starting to gain traction._

_The only other major piece of news different from his own world was a trend that he dismissed at first. Over the last year several major institutions, public and private, had whatever devices were powering their facilities stolen. Everything from raw uranium in power plants to the rare, small bit of vibranium used to make the Hadron Collider more power efficient had been taken. One of the biggest news stories was a theft at Stark Industries' headquarters in Los Angeles four months ago; one person was killed and several were severely injured when several arc reactors were stolen._

_Stephen wasn't entirely sure what an arc reactor was, but he could take a guess as to its purpose without looking further into it._

_He would have dismissed the issue as wholly within the Avengers' purview, but within this period three active volcanoes went completely dormant without warning throughout the course of three months. By the time it happened to a third volcano, it was a big news story throughout this reality's world. Such unusual activity was more within his specialty, and the amount of energy within volcanoes followed a troubling thread. _

_It was time to go back to the Sanctum and see if they could help him and if he, potentially, could aid them._

* * *

The bus ride was completely uneventful. Its route had one stop in Zlin before crossing the border into Sokovia, and during the stop nothing untoward happened.

The worst thing about the whole experience was that it was entirely too hot for his overcoat, but he did not want any of his fellow passengers getting too curious about him. As the bus was mostly filled with twenty-somethings adventuring around Europe, Stephen was not willing to tempt fate and draw the attention of one of those twenty-somethings who had nothing better to do than follow a strangely-dressed man into the heart of Sokovia.

So. Mild discomfort it was.

(Perhaps more than 'mild' in the fact that he was in a moving vehicle once more, but the bus had seatbelts and he was potentially going to be dead in a few hours, anyway. That cold truth helped stem the bouts of rising anxiety remarkably well. There were no unfortunate spells of severe nausea that led to vomiting, either, which overall made the bus ride land in the 'positive' column of what had been his life since the accident).

Two hours after first stepping onto the bus in Brno, Stephen walked into a very new bus depot in the new capital of the small country. Unlike every town and village he passed on the way, nearly every building within Novi Grad was a couple years old at the most. It was obvious that large international aid had been poured into the country to help their affected citizens build new lives for themselves.

(A lot of it was from Tony Stark's personal fortune to the point that Stark saw a decrease rather than increase in his net worth at the end of both 2015 and 2016. Despite how long he had been in this specific reality, _this_ Tony Stark still managed to completely boggle Stephen).

Euros were accepted in Sokovia. With the few he had left, he bought himself a bus ticket to one of those tiny villages only the locals knew about. Said tiny village was the closest point of civilization to what had once been the capital.

From the village it was a bit over six miles— or ten kilometers, as all the old maps said— to the edge of what was once Novi Grad. From his research he discovered that while a significant portion of the city had been lifted into the sky (and once upon a time he would have called that absurd, but, well, that was _before_), about twenty percent of the buildings within city limits were outside of the section of the earth torn away. But due to the damage from falling debris as well as the now-unstable ground, the entire area was condemned and fully evacuated. A few aerial shots he found online showed that the crater had since filled with water from the river that used to run on the outskirts of Novi Grad. Photos taken by urban explorers of what remained of the old city reminded him of the pictures he saw of Chernobyl back in the '90s.

He wasn't exactly looking forward to going there. Granted, unstable ground and creepy, abandoned homes were the least of his worries.

* * *

_It took Stephen six weeks to find Wong._

_To be fair, he wasn't expecting to find him in Sedona, Arizona._

_It may have taken a good deal longer to find him, but through sheer luck (fate? Ugh, fate) his tour around the world of slightly-more-mystical-than-usual places landed him that day in the new age resort town. Using photos saved on a cheap cell phone for reference, he discretely portalled about the town to search for signs of anything looking or feeling a bit off._

_While many of the more 'magical' places in Sedona were the typical tourist spots with great views, its magical center that fed all these branches was in the earth just below a McDonald's. That, and the fact that McDonald's was one of the only places open late in the night, made the fast food joint his last stop on his journey about the town._

_It was about 10 PM locally and Stephen was halfway through his artery-clogging meal when Wong walked in._

_They stared at each other._

_So that answered that question; Wong clearly knew him (or, well, the other him), but Wong's poker face was set and he could not read the man to save his life. It was rather weird to see him in Western clothing for the first time (though he could tell it was glamour, just like his own current outfit)._

_Stephen eventually got tired of staring and he instead raised his brows and looked pointedly at the uncomfortable bench across his table, then looked back at Wong. Surely the other sorcerer didn't want to hold a conversation across the restaurant, and judging by that still-present poker face, he clearly had something to say. He knew him well enough for that._

_Before he lost his patience and made to approach him instead (it _had been _six weeks!), Wong finally moved away from the doorway and slowly lowered himself onto the bench across the table, not once moving his eyes away from him as he sat._

_His brow furrowed as Wong settled but said nothing immediately. So he held up the container of fries and tried to break this unexpected ice. "Fry?"_

"_You're not Strange," was his answer._

_He set the fries back down and clasped his slightly trembling hands together. "Well, I am," he answered, "but not the one you're familiar with."_

_Wong's eyes darted down to look at Stephen's hands, then they narrowed imperceptibly as he raised his gaze. "How?"_

"_Cauldron of the Cosmos. The feeling of a growing potential of a universal threat is something many of us— including you, well, your other you— have felt. I was trying to narrow down the cause when I must have stumbled upon— something. I have no idea. Whatever the case may be, I'm here now."_

_His colleague (sort of) remained expressionless. "I have felt it here, this potential universal threat. It is an unknown to me, but I have more immediate concerns at this time."_

_Stephen leaned forward, brow furrowing in concern. "What has happened with the Sanctums? To Kamar-Taj? I went to all three and while they remained at full power, they were completely abandoned— and I could find no way into Kamar-Taj. It seems it has been completely sealed from this physical plane!"_

_Wong studied him for a wordless moment before seeming to come to a decision. "Come with me," he answered. Stephen didn't need to be asked twice and rose to follow him._

* * *

The major highway that ran through Sokovia had several exits that went to various parts of the old Novi Grad. After its destruction, one of major first tasks for both the Sokovian government and the EU was rerouting the road to more easily bring much-needed supplies and aid to the rebuilding country over the next several years.

It was about a mile from the small village bus stop to the point where the new road began and the old highway was closed. A low metal fence with bright signs signaling the road's new curvature made passage by vehicle impossible now. The barrier did nothing, however, to impede foot traffic.

Stephen kept to the high brush and trees several feet from the roadway to keep out of sight of passing vehicles. As he came to the old highway juncture, he listened for a moment to verify that there was no traffic before he sprinted across the highway and jumped over the low barrier. He made it to the weeds and high bushes growing on the side of the old road and slowed again to a walk.

One mile down, five to go. He was in no particular hurry and so kept his pace at a walk as he continued onward. Eventually, the new highway fell out of sight, but he kept his path on the side of the road. He did not feel any sort of watchful presence upon him, but there was no need to make himself wholly obvious.

About thirty minutes later he felt his stomach complain, so he drew out an apple and ate as he walked. His original plan was to eat on one of the bus rides but, well, he was not entirely anticipating the nausea from being in a moving vehicle again. It had been a good three years, at least. And buses weren't cars.

The medical side of his mind reminded him that that was not how traumatic experiences worked and another part of his mind told the first part of his mind to kindly shut up.

He sighed quietly. There was no reason to get riled up, not when he really needed to be at his calmest and his most prepared if he wanted to have any hope of surviving this encounter. With that thought in mind, he drew himself out of his head and instead paid more scrutiny to his surroundings.

Without any care for the last few years, nature was already gaining a strong hold on the old highway. At its edges cracks were beginning to become more plentiful as dandelions and crabgrass broke through the weakest points. He had no idea how long it would take for nature to reclaim the road, but he did not doubt that eventually it would happen.

The trees that surrounded him were largely some sort of pine tree. He couldn't say more than that, though he supposed they were the type that survived the cold winters this part of the world went through. It was fall now, so while winter was still a whiles away, the nights here were beginning to turn rather cold. Above, the sky was mostly clear with only a few white dots of wispy clouds; the late afternoon sun was not visible beyond the mountains that surrounded him, but he knew that by the time he reached the edge of the old Novi Grad, it would be about sunset.

He turned his eyes away from the trees and back to the miles that stretched before him.

* * *

According to the MCU, Sokovia is a small country between the Czech Republic and Slovakia. I decided its size and location, and made it about 100 kilometers across and 60 kilometers wide (a bit smaller than Montenegro, for comparison). For a further visual on a map, the borders of my Sokovia are between Valašské Meziříčí, CR; Zlin, CR; Trenčín, Slovakia; Martin, Slovakia; and Žilina, Slovakia. The old Novi Grad I imagine in the more mountainous regions of what is the border between the two real countries. The newly built capital is further west, closer to Zlin.

The fake Wikipedia summary on Tony Stark was taken with information from the MCU Wiki (including his net worth) and his ranking on Forbes was drawn from information provided by the Bloomberg Billionaire Index (though that info is a year ahead).

CERN's Hadron Collider does not have vibranium in it in real life. :P


	2. Chapter 2

_Wong led him to the large dumpster unit behind the McDonald's before opening a portal that led to what looked like someone's living room. The portal closed just as he stepped through. _

_"Where are we?"_

_"Still Sedona," Wong answered. "We've found that spreading ourselves to areas around the world with greater multidimensional energy was the best way to continue to monitor the world while remaining unnoticed." He walked towards the kitchen, the glamour spell falling from his person as he went. _

_Stephen removed his own glamour as he followed him, frowning. "What happened? What has driven the sorcerers from the Sanctums and closed off Kamar-Taj?"_

_Wong did not answer at first, but rather started the process of making tea. Without magic, just like Wong in his reality. _

_At least some things were the same._

_"Before I begin," Wong answered after a moment, "I need to understand some of the differences between this world and your own." The kettle flicked off and he poured the steaming water over the strainer. "What is the same? What is different?"_

_"Well, the whole issue with the Sanctums and Kamar-Taj, for one thing," he said, following Wong to the small dining room table. He sat down. "Is the Ancient One dead?" A single nod was his answer. "I figured. She was killed in New York by Kaecilius several months after I came to Kamar-Taj— I got there in the latter half of 2016. He was trying to summon Dormammu to our reality. I used the Time Stone to stop him."_

_He paused to gauge Wong's reaction. The other sorcerer simply said, "It was the same here." He poured tea into two cups, setting one down in front of Stephen. _

_The cup was too full for the average amount of shaking his hands went through when holding something. That was… unexpected, coming from Wong. He refrained from commenting and let the drink sit for some time to cool down, instead. "Beyond that, I'm currently the Master of the New York Sanctum. Talk is occasionally raised about promoting a new Sorcerer Supreme but the other Masters seem to be waiting for something, though I am uncertain as to what." He exhaled. "That's the news within our community. With the outside world, I've particularly noticed that the greatest amount of differences between the two realities is due to one of the Avengers."_

_Wong did nothing except take a drink from his cup, so Stephen continued, "Tony Stark. I saw him when I first arrived here, before I realized that this was another reality. He seems to have some sort of sensors to detect large shifts in energy— and it caught whatever the Cauldron did as some sort of energy spike. He didn't have the address of the Sanctum, though, and completely missed it. And me."_

_As he told his story, Stephen felt a weight lifting from his shoulders; after six long, lonely weeks he was not alone any longer. He had no idea how much it was weighing him down until now._

_"And what was so surprising about Tony Stark?" Wong prompted, bringing Stephen out of his thoughts. _

_He stole a surreptitious look towards his cup. Still steaming. "My reality's Tony Stark is still a weapons manufacturer and not at all associated with the Avengers. He never got kidnapped in Afghanistan, never became Iron Man, had nothing to do with the alien attack on New York, and my world's Sokovia is still intact, so the Sokovia Accords were never written. All the Avengers— though we don't have all the ones over here, and there are names you're missing— they're not split up."_

_Wong took another sip. "You seem to have a good grasp on the current events within this reality."_

_"I spent several days reading Wikipedia and various news sites," he admitted._

_He received a frown for his response. "How long have you been here?"_

_"Six weeks, two days."_

_Wong's brows rose in surprise. "You look remarkably intact for someone with no funds. You've been thieving to survive?"_

_Stephen could not help but feel offended. "What? No. I thought you thought better of me, Wong," he prodded lightly, and received a poker face in return. Figured. "I would not have been able to get by as well as I have without my abilities and the Sling Ring," he admitted. He would have been able to survive without both— had, in fact, in the week between the end of his lease and the flight to Kathmandu. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. "I took on quick, cash-as-payment jobs across the country. Ate instant ramen for a week, granted, but got enough for a used phone and basic necessities. Free WiFi takes care of my lack of data." Wong eyed his baggage-less person and he added, "All my stuff is stored in a pocket dimension in one of those dark alleys a few blocks from the New York Sanctum, close to a homeless shelter. Clean showers. Run by nice people."_

_His cup was no longer steaming. Stephen carefully took it between both hands and ignored the hot water droplets that splashed on his skin. He kept his eyes on his cup, preferring not to see Wong's reaction. "But back to the topic at hand. It seems the biggest catalyst of the non-mystical changes within the world are due to your Tony Stark." He took a few sips until the tea was at a stable level. "And it seems his actions have caused a lot of troubles. Can he be trusted?"_

_"I don't know Tony Stark," was his answer. _

_"Doesn't matter," he retorted. "He's in the media more than often enough to give you enough information to judge his character, and your instincts are solid."_

_He caught emotion fly across Wong's face for the first time that evening. Surprise flickered in his eyes before he answered, slowly, "From what I have seen and read of him, Stark is arrogant and his actions have often brought on great troubles. His motivations, however, appear honest and he seems to mean well. He has spent a lot of money and time these last ten years making up for what troubles he caused, no matter how inadvertently." Stephen nodded slowly, lips turned downward in thought. "Why do you ask?" said Wong._

_Stephen looked down at his cup as he considered his words. "In my reality, Tony Stark is… not a good man." He bit his lip. "Well known for being a womanizer, but a lot of men in that position are and I don't know if he's— hurt anyone like that. Who knows; I mean, look at Harvey Weinstein. Regardless, there was suspicious activity surrounding him the last decade or so that left conspiracy theorists gnawing at the bit. After I became Master of the Sanctum, I found that Stark was on the 'might attempt to summon a demon due to past practices' list."_

_"The what?"_

_"Sorry, the watch list of mortal, mundane threats that have the resources to potentially breach into our territory." He saw movement out of the corner of his eyes, and there was suddenly a washcloth just beyond his hands. He offered a short half-smile as he wiped the spilt tea off his fingers. "But it turns out that the sorcerers in my reality suspect him of being responsible for… quite a few murders. And the world's governments have been turning a blind eye to it for fifteen years. It is difficult for me to imagine him as different as you describe. How could that possibly be the same person?"_

_The silence that followed his question had an unusual heaviness to it, and Stephen lifted his eyes to meet Wong's grave expression._

_"I appreciate the information," Wong said after a beat. "It's time you were brought up to speed on what news you still lack."_

* * *

Overgrown and encroaching weeds snaked up the buildings and crawled down the sidewalks, consuming porches, lawn furniture, and abandoned children's toys. Cars littered the streets in various states of capacity, from looking pretty functional (if not rather dirty) to being completely totalled. Further down the road he saw a large boulder had ruined half a house and most of two cars.

_This_, he thought, _would make a great horror film set._

And it was eerie, too. While some tagging in bright and dull colors alike covered much of what was left behind on the outskirts of town, the further he went to where the heart of the city once stood, the less tagging he saw. There was a significant amount of more debris and ruined buildings, and the road was completely uneven from where falling rocks had skidded and torn up the ground before coming to a stop.

Beyond the roots of nature reclaiming what it once had completely owned, Stephen did not see any other life. He left behind the loud, early evening birds a mile or so ago (perhaps they felt the uneasiness about this place) and he saw no signs of small mammals taking shelter within the abandoned buildings (they must feel _something_ about this place).

He kept an eye on his footing as he made his way further into town. Stephen did not sense anything different within the atmosphere yet, and he suspected that wherever his end goal within the ruined city was, it would not be something anyone could just stumble upon. This would take his own specific skill sets to unravel.

With luck, he would see his task done to its end, even if it did cost him his life. It was, in all senses of the word, his responsibility. That Stephen believed to his very core.

* * *

_Stephen's whole body shook as he stood at the kitchen sink, doing his best not to vomit. He could sense Wong nearby, and that he was giving him space but remaining present should he be needed._

_It took him a couple minutes to regain control of his breathing and taper down the nausea. For another moment he focused solely on the rhythm of his breaths instead of what he was just told. Oxygen only. In, five seconds, out. Rinse and repeat._

_When he felt he could speak without bringing up the remnants of his McDonald's meal, he said, "I'm sorry."_

_"Don't be," was Wong's simple answer._

_He took another short period to breathe and regain something resembling control. Swallowing heavily, he managed to say, "How many?"_

_"Strange—"_

_"_How many?_"_

_The silence sat, tense as a bowstring, before Wong answered, "Seven."_

_It was getting hard to breathe again. He leaned forward and lowered his head to the cool counter, just trying to get his lungs to work— trying to settle his uneasy stomach— trying to wrap his head around everything— _

_"Do you need to lie down?" Wong. Wong, who knew him and yet didn't know him— _

_Stephen straightened himself and slowly shook his head. "No." More breathing. When he felt more physically settled, he said, "I— I think I— I need to hear the whole story. I need to understand how this could have happened."_

_Wong looked dubious. "Now?"_

_"Yes. Please. I won't— I won't be able to rest anyway. I think the worst of the shock is over." His heartbeat was starting to slow down. It was getting easier to breathe. "I promise I won't vomit on your clean floors."_

_The other man huffed in something that could have been anything from disbelief to amusement. "You'll clean it up if you do." He gestured to the living room where sat an easy chair and a loveseat. "I'd offer you something stronger to drink for this, but I really don't want to tempt fate."_

_"Funny." _

_Wong took the chair and Stephen settled on the couch. The doctor remained silent as the other gathered his thoughts. _

_"Like you, this reality's Stephen Strange came to Kamar-Taj in 2016. I was not present for his first meeting with the Ancient One, but I was told later by Mordo about how he found him and what occurred. Strange was wandering about Kathmandu, asking about Kamar-Taj on the streets. Mordo admired his persistence and eventually approached him. From what I understand, Strange did not speak until the Ancient One spoke with him."_

_He must have been frowning, because Wong paused and asked, "What is it?"_

_"There's already differences— I mean, I don't see why Mordo would lie about this. In my reality, Mordo saved me from three thugs trying to steal my watch."_

_"A watch?"_

_"It was my last one. A— a gift. From someone I consider a dear friend." He rubbed at his wrist. "Also, I was not silent the entire route and definitely spoke before the Ancient One did. I thought Hamir was him. Not her." His lips twitched at the memory._

_Wong's brow furrowed, but he kept his thoughts to himself. "From Mordo's tale, Strange was full of disbelief and anger and mocked the Ancient One's words. She then forced his astral form through several dimensions."_

_"Accurate," he admitted._

_"When he came back to his body, however, he was apologetic. The Ancient One forgave his hubris and he was permitted to remain."_

_Stephen made another face. "I probably should have done that." At Wong's questioning look, he said, "I think I said something along the lines of 'show me!' I was desperate at this point. I'm pretty sure I forgot to add a 'please'. Definitely didn't actually apologize. It took me five hours to get them to let me back in." He snorted softly. "I was a bit of a douchebag."_

_Wong inclined his head in acknowledgement, then continued, "I met Strange eventually, but we did not talk often. He was polite, but distant. Didn't socialize much with others. Very intelligent. One thing that I did note quickly was that he always wore gloves, no matter the weather."_

_He looked down at his scarred hands with a soft frown. "Gloves seem useless if they're still shaking," he muttered._

_"I couldn't say why he did since the shaking was still evident. I never knew him well enough to ask." Stephen frowned further at that response even as Wong continued. "I believe that what happened with Kaecilius and Dormammu was very similar in this reality to your own. You mentioned you used the Time Stone earlier; you used it to create a loop?" He offered a silent nod of affirmation. "Then it is all but the same. However, while it seems you have managed to recover and grow from the harrowing experience it must have been, hindsight has brought me to believe the Stephen Strange in this reality broke due to what happened._

_"He was already a very reclusive man; after he became Master of the New York Sanctum, he only came to Kamar-Taj for mandatory meetings between the Masters. Those who went to the Sanctum for study, reference, or other business rarely saw him." He paused. "I regret not reaching out. I should have seen it coming."_

_Stephen frowned. "You're not to blame, Wong. This— this me, my counterpart, he made his own decisions. No matter what he went through, it's no excuse. I mean, I went through the same thing and I didn't turn into…" He trailed off and swallowed heavily. He couldn't quite say the word, not yet._

_Wong inclined his head. "I appreciate the sentiment." He paused. "It may be less confusing if I call you Stephen, if you don't mind."_

_"Not at all!" he reassured. "Wong and I in— well, we're not friends per se, but definitely colleagues in good standing, and we're on a first name basis. At least, I think Wong's your first name. You still haven't told me otherwise."_

_His lips curled up into a very slight smile, but his expression quickly sobered, causing what good humor Stephen was forcing upon the conversation to completely dissipate. "About sixteen months ago was when the troubles really started. During one of the meetings between us Masters, Strange started to expound theories about how we may better protect the earth. As the 'Avengers were broken up' and 'the world's governments were too busy bickering to do their job', he believed we should consider keeping an eye on all large threats to Earth's stability, mystical or otherwise._

_"It is not a bad idea in theory, but the logistics of such a move— especially with the Accords— made everyone reluctant to try and work out any sort of agreement with any government. We are used to operating in the shadows because the threats we deal with are of that nature. Alongside that, we do not necessarily have the manpower to deal with many of the mundane threats that may be better suited for a special ops team led by Captain America."_

_"We're not soldiers," Stephen added._

_Wong nodded. "That we are not. Protectors, yes. But there is a difference." He pursed his lips. "Strange said nothing to these points and I thought that was the end of it. A month later during our next gathering he brought it up again, but this time mentioned that he was researching sources of power, both of this earth and of other dimensions, that can be utilized by magic to fully defend the earth of all threats great and small." He exhaled. "It was Hamir who asked him if he had looked into the Dark Dimension. He did not answer the question directly. After that meeting, Hamir, Minoru, and I spoke and we decided to hide the Time Stone. Afterwards, I reached out to Mordo."_

_Stephen's brow furrowed. "Mordo? So he did leave the order in this universe, as well?"_

_"Yes. However, as he was removing his effects from Kamar-Taj, I spoke with him. I had doubts about your counterpart and the Ancient One's belief that you could potentially be the next Sorcerer Supreme."_

_"Wait— what?"_

_Wong's lips curled upward. "You did say earlier that you wondered what the other Masters are waiting for. I am pretty certain they are waiting until you are ready." Before Stephen could argue about it more (_him_, really?) Wong said, "But that is a topic for another time. I doubted Strange and Mordo did as well, albeit for different reasons. He agreed to stay in touch and provided a neutral source for messages."_

_Stephen lowered his head. "I have— I've tried to find him, on occasion. But he has remained out of sight since he left. I don't… I don't know if my reality's Wong is in touch."_

_"I doubt it." He lifted his head and met Wong's serious look. "You have displayed none of the traits that made me wary of Strange. That was my sole reason to keep in contact with Mordo."_

_"It seems you had good reason," he answered, throat dry. _

_"It took a couple weeks before Strange came for the Eye and found it missing. I was not in the library at the time. He found… he found Hamir first." Wong paused. "From what I understand, they argued. In all my time in Kamar-Taj I've never heard Hamir raise his voice. According to those who overheard the fight, he raised his voice but once. A couple minutes later, the first blows fell."_

_Stephen bent his head and closed his eyes in visible grief as Wong continued. "By the time I arrived to Kamar-Taj, the fight had been going for several minutes and the damage was already phenomenal. Before I could join, Minoru tasked me with collecting the most important of books, records, and relics that could be carried with the novices and younger, less experienced apprentices being evacuated._

_"I did all this with what we had in Kamar-Taj as well as the three Sanctums, focusing especially on items of power. And I contacted Mordo."_

_He exhaled softly. "By the time I had seen to all of that and went back to Kamar-Taj, the fight was over. As I said, there were seven deaths, and several more injured." His gaze lowered for the first time. "If I had been present in the library, I would have been the one confronted, rather than Hamir."_

_Stephen swallowed. "It's not your fault," he whispered, but he knew how meaningless those words could be in the presence of guilt. "Who… who else? Other than Hamir?"_

_Wong lifted his gaze. "Masters Minoru and Grem. Apprentices Li, Patil, and Farris." He paused. "And Mordo."_

_His breath shuddered and the shaking in his hands increased. He clasped them together to try to get them to stop. They didn't. "God," he muttered._

_Wong waited for a moment before continuing. "With four Masters, including all Sanctum keepers, gone in one day, those of us who remained decided to remove Kamar-Taj from the physical plane until order could be restored and focus on protecting the Sanctums. We soon discovered that whatever powers Strange now had gave him the ability to oversee the Sanctums no matter his position around the globe. His added shields and protection spells have certainly made them less penetrable to hostile forces, though you've seen what the strain of power has done to the facade. I find it odd that he did not come immediately to New York when your incident with the Cauldron occurred."_

_He was still thinking about the battle and the dead and nearly missed the implied question. "For— for all I know, he did come. Iron Man was there, though, so he could have simply gone immediately inside. I didn't go back in after I saw Stark; I headed to the public library. I didn't get back there for several hours."_

_"That is very fortunate."_

_Stephen ran his hands through his hair. "It doesn't really matter. But how— how have you been able to keep everyone safe since? Is he not…" He couldn't finish the thought._

_"Strange is not looking to slaughter every sorcerer." He paused. "I don't know if he was necessarily trying to kill anyone that day; most deaths seemed to be caused by falling debris. If he were actively hunting us, I don't know how many of us would still be alive. I don't think he realizes that I was responsible for removing all the relics, especially the Eye of Agamotto. He would have found me if he knew that."_

_"Then why are you telling me all this?" Stephen cried, causing Wong to pause in confusion. The doctor stood and began to pace. Anger and grief poured into his next words. "How can you give me any sort of trust? How can you invite me into your home— your hideaway, sit with me, give me a cup of damned tea when I've completely wronged you and everyone you know?"_

_"Because _you're not him_," Wong said with a firmness that stopped Stephen in his tracks. He opened his mouth to argue, but Wong spoke over him, "Even if your magical signature wasn't completely different, I knew the moment I saw you that you weren't him."_

_His throat felt dry. "How?" he managed._

_"Your hands, for one thing. The moment he could he began to use glamour to cover up the scars. If he's now drawing power from the Dark Dimension as I suspect, it's possible he's solved the shaking as well." Stephen frowned at that bit of news. "Secondly, the way you greeted me was… different. At this point of time I don't know what Strange would do if we bumped into each other with civilians around us, but I don't believe he would allow me to make the first move. Offering the fry was just the final confirmation for me to know that not only were you of another reality, but your personality was completely different. Our conversation since has shown me that you are the man the Ancient One saw. It's to our reality's loss that we did not have you, Stephen."_

_He could not begin to describe what those words, coming from the stoic, unflappable man, meant to him. He looked away to compose himself, then answered quietly, "Thank you." He sat down once more and studied his hands before raising his eyes to meet Wong's. "Your reality has me for now, and I swear to you, Wong, that I will do my best to fix this wrong before I go home."_

* * *

Part of the long term effect of using magic constantly was that one gained the ability to feel and on occasion see where magic existed within the physical world. It manifested itself differently depending on the sort of magic around. Some magic felt a bit like static electricity, while other types felt like a sudden cold spot. Some magic hovered in soft mists of various colors and some types appeared like dancing sparks. The more experienced a sorcerer, the easier magic became to detect.

In this case, it was when the sky was darker and Stephen was deep within the ruined city that he first sensed the presence of magic in the vicinity, with a vague idea as to its general direction. He proceeded with caution towards the crater lake, mindful of his footing as the dim light barely illuminated the holes and debris upon the road.

He was perhaps one hundred yards from the edge of the crater itself when he had a clear road ahead and, more importantly, a visual on his final destination.

Across the lake, perhaps half a mile away in a direct line, was an old fortress set upon a steep hill. Even from his vantage point he could see the jagged, frazzled energy of unstable magic surrounding the premises, concentrated especially in the highest building.

It would take perhaps an hour to make his way around the perimeter while maintaining his cautious pace through the detritus. There was enough light in the twilight sky to illuminate the way without overdue risk.

Onwards to his doom, then. He adjusted the straps sitting on his back and began to put one step in front of the other.

* * *

_Neither of them were in any particular mood to try and sleep, even as the hour struck midnight (which meant it was 2AM in New York, but he doubted he would be seeing the proverbial Sandman, no matter the weariness that sunk into his very bones)._

_At some point Wong left Stephen to go to the kitchen. When he returned, he was bearing two cups of tea. This time the cup he handed to the doctor was only three-fourths full._

"_Thank you," he murmured, and took a slow sip. The burning water felt like some sort of retribution for the crimes his other self had committed. With that thought, he took another drink. "Do you… do you know what he's been doing since…" _Since he murdered seven people. _Stephen squeezed his eyes shut._

"_He has focused upon that which led to the conflict in the first place: collecting sources of power to grow his own, presumably to better protect reality." Wong took a sip from his cup. "I do not know if he still tells himself that or not, but that was his story then."_

_Stephen's brow furrowed. "Sources of— are you telling me he is responsible for the thefts at the power plants? The unusual volcanic activity?" At the confirming nod, he continued, "And the disaster at Stark Industries? He killed someone! And from what it sounded like, three others were critically injured—"_

"_Stephen."_

_He ignored him. "How many more died because of him?" Placing the cup down on the coffee table, he pulled out his phone and tried to bring up his browser with shaky fingers. _

"_Stephen."_

_The browser was taking a very long time to load. It was only when it told him he was offline that Stephen remembered that he had no sort of data. "Wong, what's your WiFi?"_

"_Stephen!"_

_His hands shook to the point that he dropped the phone. He froze as the hard casing clattered against the wooden floors. When he moved again, a shuddering exhale ran through his body and he put his head in his shaking, useless hands._

_A soft noise in the background was all he heard before he felt a gentle hand fall on his shoulder. At the contact, another shudder ran through him and he swallowed down all rising emotions that were beginning to brim upward towards the surface. Throughout this Wong remained present, a silent but unyielding support._

_When he felt he could speak without completely breaking down, he murmured, "Sorry."_

_The hand left his shoulder. "Drink your tea," was his reply._

_Stephen lifted his face from his palms and bent down to grab his phone. He put it on the table and waited for a moment for the shaking in his hands to slow down before grabbing the cup again. He took a drink; it was no longer scalding, but part of him felt that it should be._

_Wong waited until he lowered the cup to speak again. "It may be best if we continue this in the morning."_

"_My disgust will not have dissipated by then," Stephen answered. "If you do not tell me, Wong, I will take your laptop and find the information myself."_

"_It's password-protected."_

"_Fine. I'll go to the library."_

"_At midnight?"_

"_It's not midnight in Europe."_

_He sighed and settled once again in the easy chair. "I am wholly reminded of the stubborn traits I glimpsed in your counterpart. It's probably universal."_

"_Probably," he murmured, but he could not muster the energy to pretend a lighthearted tone._

_Wong leaned back in his seat. "I imagine in your reality you have protocols for when business regarding the Mystic Arts brushes with the intelligence and security agencies of the world's governments." Stephen nodded. "I imagine ours are very similar. Regardless, we started keeping an ear on the ground for signs of him that the drew attention of a handful of governments._

"_We quickly discovered that within the course of a month, uranium had been stolen from seven nuclear plants across four countries— though the individual countries, while allies, weren't telling each other about the thefts yet," he added somewhat dryly. "From what we found, the only thing they were able to capture on film was a shadowy figure."_

_Stephen frowned. "Some sort of concealment spell? We cannot trick cameras, only the eyes of the people watching. Did you see any of the footage?"_

_He nodded. "Eventually I did. It was a spell of some sort, but not one I have seen in person. It looked Atlantean in nature."_

_A nauseous feeling stirred at the bottom of his stomach again. "What the hell is he doing?" he muttered._

"_Gathering sources of raw energy, but for what purpose beyond what he stated to us last year, I have no idea," Wong answered. "I don't know entirely what sort of energy he thinks he can draw from uranium, but I believe he is clever enough to devise modified spellwork to potentially use their energy with enough practice." He exhaled, then continued, "About eight months ago, it was a whistleblower in France that told the press that three power plants in the country were missing uranium. It soon got out that there was some missing from several countries over the last few months, though the public has no idea just how much has been stolen."_

"_It didn't seem like they knew who did it, either, from what I remember reading," Stephen said. "Do the intelligence communities know who this shadowy figure is? I can't imagine there's much detail to draw from."_

_He shook his head. "There were accusations for a little while against the so-called 'Rogue Avengers', those who fled after the entire issue with the Accords, but the complete lack of evidence closed it down. The US has creatively dubbed the thief as 'The Shadow'." Stephen snorted. "Once that news story broke out, the uranium thefts stopped for a time. Instead we saw three suddenly-dormant volcanoes and the vibranium stolen from CERN, though no one seems to have connected those issues to the missing uranium."_

_Wong took another drink from his cup. "The situation did change a bit about six months ago."_

_Stephen wracked his brain. "Was that… that was when Stark Industries was hit, right?" With the casualties. He kept his eyes on his tea so he did not tempt himself to reach for his phone to look it all up. Wong would tell him all he needed to know._

"_Yes. What do you know about it?"_

"_I only read a couple summaries back when I first arrived— that their headquarters in Los Angeles had several arc reactors stolen and that there was one dead and several injured, including three critically. I never looked further into it after I saw what happened to the Sanctums and Kamar-Taj."_

"_Perhaps that's for the best." At his confused look, Wong explained, "From what I understand, the arc reactors in LA are stored in the same area as their research labs, which naturally has the highest level of security. A significant presentation was taking place in one of the labs when Strange came."_

_His brow furrowed. "That late at night?"_

"_She was apparently just back from Japan and wanted to get it out of the way before jet lag hit." At his look, Wong clarified, "According to the intelligence reports."_

"_And who was this 'she'?"_

"_Stark Industries' CEO, Pepper Potts." A pause. "And fiance of Tony Stark."_

_Stephen leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. "'Perhaps for the best', indeed," he muttered. He exhaled slowly and looked back at Wong. "Was she the one who…"_

"_No. But she was one of the critically injured. To this day she lies in a coma."_

_He swallowed heavily. "God." He stared into his teacup for a wordless minute. "And Stark? From what I've read of him in this universe, this seems like something he would look into."_

"_With all the time and energy he could give it," Wong confirmed. "We actually have someone in Stark Industries close enough to Stark to get decent information on the situation."_

"_Seriously? How?"_

"_She lived in Kamar-Taj for a year in her early adulthood. She didn't take well to magic, but the disciplined life helped reform her; she was rather troubled when she got here. Promised the Ancient One that she would always be available to help and kept in contact with several sorcerers over the years. She's been our eyes and ears with the Avengers for some time now."_

"_Huh. Well, what's the story?"_

_Wong finished his tea and set the empty cup on the table. "Once Miss Potts was stable, he threw himself into figuring out who was behind the theft. This was the first time there were witnesses to the crime; furthermore, Strange was definitely not expecting them to be present, for he had to partially drop whatever spell he casts upon himself to shadow his body to instead fight their security off. According to our informant, footage managed to capture a couple stills of part of his facial features."_

_Stephen pressed his lips together. "And from your earlier hints, it sounds like he figured out that it was my counterpart."_

_A sharp nod. "Three months ago. He had already connected Strange to the missing uranium and vibranium— not a difficult leap, considering his unique method of thievery. It wasn't difficult to verify; there were reports of Stark in Kathmandu for three days about that time."_

"_That's where my paper trail ended," he murmured. "It makes sense. If Kamar-Taj was not removed from the physical plane, I imagine he may have found it."_

"_Possibly," said Wong. "We also know that he has been studying the energy expelled by Strange's spellwork in the fight at Stark Industries to try and figure out a cure for Miss Potts as well as to try and track Strange down."_

_He blinked. "I'm sorry, a cure?"_

"_Apparently the doctors believe that the reason she remains in a coma is related to the magic that hit her."_

_He slowly exhaled. "It's a good thing I was within the Sanctum's concealment when I first saw Stark," he muttered. "I would probably be in some CIA black site otherwise."_

"_You could have beaten Stark," Wong retorted, causing Stephen to slightly smile. His host took both cups and stood. "The easy chair reclines. I will get you a blanket."_

"_I don't think I'll be getting any sleep tonight," he confessed._

"_Try," was the reply. "It's going to be a busy day tomorrow." At the questioning look, Wong clarified, "It's best to tell the other Masters about you sooner rather than later and get it over with."_

_He couldn't argue against that logic._

* * *

A bit over an hour later found Stephen climbing up the winding road that led to the top of the fortress. This close he could see that the foundations were at least a few hundred years old, though he could not begin to guess as to their true age. The structures within the compound had clearly been rebuilt and updated over the course of time.

One of its newest additions seemed to be the winding road that curved its way around and through the other buildings to make its way to the top of the hill. Unfortunately this road was entirely open with no cover to speak of, leaving absolutely no chance of a stealthy entrance.

Of course, Strange was not likely expecting anyone to just walk up to the front door, so perhaps this was the best approach in this case.

If he was really lucky, Strange wouldn't be around at all, giving him a chance to locate and transport as much of the uranium as possible to Wong to the location they chose for this purpose. If he was really, really, _really_ lucky, he'd even get a chance to move magical items or other items of importance that could tell them more about what his ultimate plans were.

He did know, from both what Wong told him and his own study of magic, that the moment he did use any spells, it was very likely that Strange would immediately come. What he was currently counting on was the man's ego; after being actively hunted by Iron Man for nearly six months (nine months if one counted the time before he knew his identity) with no report of being able to actually find him, he was counting on his counterpart failing to put any sort of spells that alerted him of all breaches into his hideout, as opposed to magical ones alone. It's a mistake he could see himself doing without this experience behind him.

Stephen's plan relied entirely too much on luck, he knew, but if he could accomplish some sort of good before his end, then he could die— not happy, not really content, but at least a little bit satisfied that he did some real good against a man that should have never made the decisions he made.

* * *

A/N: Tony's a huge womanizer in the comics throughout a lot of his history and that, along with the MCU's pre-kidnapped Tony and the musings behind how this prompt could work by amethyst-noir, helped craft the evil version of the character.

The fortress that stands on the outskirts of Novi Grad, Sokovia in _Age of Ultron_ (where the scepter was rescued from at the beginning of the film) was represented by Fort Bard in Bard, Italy, if you would like to Google for further visualizations of the millennium-old fortress.


	3. Chapter 3

_They asked him to stay. He was grateful not only for the opportunity, but that he didn't have to be alone anymore._

_Like Wong, it seemed most of the sorcerers found it easy to separate him from his counterpart due to their very different personalities. Stephen could not begin to imagine what happened differently in their pasts to facilitate this change, but he was thankful that they saw him as his own person. _

_For the most part he stayed with Wong, helping him with the 'monitoring over reality' part of the job as well as the finances and bookkeeping that was one of the librarian's primary duties when everything was normal._

_"I still remember when I got my first monthly budget to run the New York Sanctum," Stephen told Wong about a month after he first found him. "I nearly had an aneurysm. I rarely had enough money to buy a burger and here was a thousand dollars for groceries and maintenance."_

_"Just because all of us individually are dirt poor does not mean the order is," Wong commented as he went through several individual banking accounts; they were set up after they had to flee Kamar-Taj to live and monitor the world individually or in small groups. "Didn't you wonder where all the food and good-quality robes were coming from before you became a Master?"_

_He shrugged. "I just assumed 'magic' at first and never thought about it after I learned that that was not how magic worked."_

_"We do own property in three of the most expensive cities in the world," Wong pointed out._

_"I know that _now_! I was talking about back then. Wong— other Wong— told me we had everything from the occasional Ming dynasty vase auction to impressive amounts of stock in Amazon and Google. I think the Ancient One using the Time Stone that way technically counts as a type of insider trading, though."_

_Wong looked up from his laptop. "Would you do differently?"_

_Stephen snorted. "We protect them from being consumed by dimension-eating demons. I have no issue playing the stock market to keep us fed in the meanwhile." He paused. "But maybe the sorcerers should get at least a little bit of a stipend." Wong raised an eyebrow. "I'm just saying that I'd like a subscription to Spotify, that's all."_

_"Many manage with part-time jobs, especially with the internet," Wong answered. "Chen makes a rather nice side living by drawing porn of popular fictional characters."_

_Stephen choked on his drink. "What? Isn't she like, fifteen?" he managed after a couple coughs._

_"She's twenty-two."_

_"Are you sure? She looks no older than fifteen."_

_"We don't have children fighting against eldritch abominations, Stephen. Get back to work."_

_It was a couple weeks later, while doing the books on the individual Sanctums themselves, that Stephen asked, "Do you know if Strange knows you control so much of the funding?" He paused, then added dryly, "And that your paying the property taxes keeps collectors from trying to find the owners of the Sanctums?"_

_Wong pressed his lips together. "He has obtained everything he needed by stealing this last year, so I do not know if that is something he cares about anymore. From what I understand, Strange dismissed me as simply 'the librarian', so I doubt he has considered it. I don't think he will think of it unless it becomes a problem."_

_Stephen shook his head. "His loss. He missed out on an intelligent ally and friend because of his arrogance."_

_He was pretty sure that he caught Wong smile at that._

_A week later another scattering of power plants were missing some uranium. It was then that Stephen put aside his work as Wong's assistant and began to figure out how to track him and take what he stole back._

_"The moment you use magic to move these stolen goods, he will likely be there," Wong said when Stephen admitted his plans. "Then what will you do?"_

_"You probably don't think I could talk any sense into him," Stephen mumbled._

_Wong pursed his lips. "I think if you go forward with this foolish task, you will need to be prepared to kill him. Otherwise he will kill you."_

_The thought made very uneasy, but he took Wong's words into serious consideration as he continued his studies._

_It only took him a month to find his base and set his plans into motion._

* * *

He went through the fortress carefully before it became evident that not only was Strange not currently present, but that he clearly did not have a monitor for any random person who came into the building.

Stephen saw plenty of tagging and in some rooms he found old bottles of beer and harder liquors. He supposed he would get annoyed about being alerted every time idiots came inside the fortress.

It didn't take him long to realize that anything of importance was not kept out in the open. He left behind the tagged walls and headed towards the areas within the building that he could feel the heaviest presence of magic.

About ten minutes later he found a concealment spell placed on a door; the only reason he found the door in the first place was because he was focusing solely on the presence of magic and little else about his surroundings. Alongside that, he knew this spell inside and out as Master of a Sanctum. It was done in a very similar manner to his own, though he had to admit it was a bit more refined.

The door was unlocked, of course. He opened it to find a bedroom, and a surprisingly put-together bedroom considering the location. The bed was worlds better than the inflatable mattress he was using at Wong's place. He also had a sturdy bookshelf and desk, and the bastard had figured out how to get working electricity in the room. Of course he had; it was _him_.

What he needed to find were items he could take without him noticing that they were missing for some time. The book on the desk wouldn't do, but… oh. Yes, he could do that.

He dug into the coat pocket and took out his phone. He turned it on, muted it, and began taking pictures of everything that looked remotely important. The books and the journals got the most attention, and he photographed the title pages and table of contents (for the books that had them; if not, the first page was photographed instead). He also documented the few pages in less-ancient books that his other self had tagged with blue sticky notes (which meant they were the most important pages. He had a very good memory, but at times he just needed to double check his references).

Ten minutes later he slipped out of the room with no items but plenty of information. There were no relics in that room and no sign of the stolen uranium (or anything else), so he continued onward, focusing on the use of magic once more.

It didn't take him long to find the presence of a pocket dimension. A wide sweep revealed no other magic in the immediate area thrumming with as much power as his current location. He carefully reached out towards it and grimaced; this could only be where the uranium was being stored. If it wasn't, something with an equal amount of raw energy was within the pocket dimension and it was well worth taking away from Strange.

He frowned; this next bit would be tricky. Somehow Stephen needed to pull the pocket dimension open quickly, widen it to spill out its contents, and make those contents fall through a portal to the designated drop spot for Wong. If he was really lucky, he could follow after the items, but he was fairly certain he would not have time without having Strange jump in after him. And that would not do.

Stephen exhaled slowly. He put his phone into the knapsack, then took off his coat and folded it. Both items he placed in a bundle just under the core of the pocket dimension.

Another slow breath. There was no further reason to delay. He knew he had the ability to do this and with luck, he would succeed in emptying the pocket before Strange showed up.

He placed his Sling Ring on trembling fingers; opening the pocket dimension would be more difficult than the portal, so he made that his first point of concentration.

Slow exhale. And… now. Stephen felt the natural resistance from the pocket at another entity beyond its creator trying to access it, but he knew the wards around it (of course) and was confident he could open the dimension in thirty seconds.

It was perhaps ten, fifteen seconds later that he heard the telltale presence of sparks whizzing through the air. No, he just needed a few more seconds—

Just as he tore the pocket dimension completely open, a blast of magic knocked him off his feet. He slid ten feet even as he heard several heavy fuel canisters fall to the ground. They were very durable, so he wasn't concerned about them cracking, but he still needed to _get them away_.

Even as he tried to push himself back up, Strange was on top of him, placing his knee on his left arm that held the Sling Ring and attempting to still the movement of his right. "Who are you to come in here—" the man started, but then he saw Stephen's face and he paused in shock.

Stephen took advantage of his surprise. He pulled his right arm out of his grasp and thrust his elbow straight at his neck, aiming for the carotid artery. A grunt and his opponent fell back, and Stephen twisted towards the pile of uranium fuel canisters to make a portal as he lay on his side on the floor.

"Stop!" came from somewhere behind him, but just as his arm was yanked back, the last of the containers fell through as the portal closed.

Another blast of magic slammed against his chest and sent him sliding fifteen feet across the floor. He was not sure what that spell was, but it _hurt_. Stephen groaned, but pulled himself up to his feet as quickly as he could with a shield set this time.

His counterpart, however, had not moved from his spot. Strange's face— _his_ face— was filled with confusion and curiosity as he stood fifteen feet away. He looked all but the same— even wore his hair the same— though the long dark coat and old-fashioned suit were admittedly a nice touch. Stephen internally grimaced at the stray thought and renewed his focus.

"You're not from here, clearly," said Strange, taking a step closer. Stephen widened his shield in reply, and his doppelganger stopped. "The question is, how did you get here?"

"Does that really matter?" Stephen retorted.

"Call it professional curiosity," he answered. "It's my business to know these things— as I suspect it is yours."

He pressed his lips together. "Consider yourself disappointed." He wasn't telling him about the Cauldron. He wasn't telling him anything.

Strange frowned at him. "I'm not your enemy."

"Your actions would say otherwise." Those blasts were going to leave bruises.

He crossed his arms, a look of annoyance crossing over his face. "You did just steal from me. Well done on finding that pocket dimension, by the way— not that I would expect differently from myself."

This was not turning out how he thought it would turn out. Still, Stephen kept up the shield. "I'd rather say I was returning stolen property."

Strange frowned. "You don't understand—"

"Oh, I think I more than well enough understand," he interrupted. "You've hurt people. You've _killed_ people."

"Not intentionally," his doppelganger argued. "They were unfortunate casualties in the battle to protect this world from calamities they cannot even imagine."

"Your order well knew of those calamities!" Stephen shouted, and he was surprised at the emotion he felt escape with the outburst. Strange was surprised, too; he could read it on his face, so easily. He forced himself to get a grip and continued more calmly, "Your order trusted you and you betrayed them."

Strange pressed his lips together. "My _order_," he spat, "was leading us down a road that would ultimately keep the world unsafe from the real threats surrounding us. They have no idea how to handle them— _what I_ had to do to handle them!"

Stephen narrowed his eyes. "I know exactly what you had to do to protect this world. I lived— died— through the same damn thing."

The other man stilled and studied him with careful scrutiny. "Time loop?" Stephen nodded once in confirmation, and Strange continued, "Then you understand the sacrifices necessary to keep reality safe."

"Not your sacrifices," he retorted. "The end doesn't justify the means you have taken."

"Does it not?" Strange retorted. "My job— _our_ job— is to protect reality at all costs. This means finding new resources and tools to do that job as efficiently as possible, especially when the rest of those who call themselves Earth's defenders are too busy with their petty squabbles to contribute anything worthwhile."

Stephen frowned at him as Strange continued, "This world is a mess, Stephen. I'm not sure what it's like in your reality, but the universe seems to make things happen for a reason." His counterpart seemed to find that trend just as annoying as Stephen did. "You could be of so much help here."

He stared at him. _Is he seriously saying what I think he's saying?_ "Please don't tell me you're asking me to join you."

Strange lifted a brow. "Why not?"

"Beyond your obvious moral deficiency? We're straying too close to 'cheesy movie cliche' territory."

The other man looked a bit thrown off by the remark, and Stephen was beginning to think he saw some of the personality differences now. "Consider it: two Stephen Stranges protecting this earth? We'd be unstoppable, once I showed you all I know." He narrowed his eyes. "Your hands still shake. I can fix them for you permanently." He lifted one of his hands; it was steady and completely free of scars. "We could do so much good together."

His throat dried at the sight of his hand free of tremors. Free of pain. He swallowed, then forced his voice to remain calm as he said, "Now it's in the 'bad movie cliche' category."

Annoyance again crossed over Strange's features. "Would you stop with these infantile jokes? I'm serious—"

"Oh, I'm completely serious." He readied himself. "And my answer to you is no."

Strange did not immediately reply; instead his palms began to spark with unbridled magic. "Perhaps I can convince you otherwise."

The shield blocked the first blast of some sort of electrical magic he did not recognize. As Strange prepared his second shot, Stephen began to create a portal under him to dump him in Antarctica.

Strange saw it coming and jumped out of the way, then retaliated with an unusually strong Wind of Watoomb that crackled with static electricity as it flew at him with body-breaking speed. Stephen blocked the targeted gust with the bright orange barrier of the Shield of the Seraphim. He sent the shield hurling towards his counterpart to knock him off his feet, then followed it up with the thick Crimson Bands of Cyttorak in some sort of attempt to keep him restrained.

Both the shield and the bands were caught in the Mirror Dimension, forcing Stephen to release his hold upon the latter before being caught within that plane. His doppelganger let the dimensional barrier stand before them for a moment; his features were distorted by the glassy shards of reality within the air.

"Last chance," he said.

"I already gave you my answer," Stephen replied.

Strange said nothing, but let the barrier fall. Even with the distance between them he could see the sudden symbol cut into his forehead, and he began to access a new set of powers that Stephen had not seen since that fateful day with Kaecilius, The Ancient One, and Dormammu. His counterpart twisted his arms wide and the room began to contort with it.

_Oh God, not this again._

Stephen caught at the rafters with an Eldritch whip in one hand and shielded himself for the impact of the twisting room with the other. As Strange moved his arms to twist the room again, Stephen hit the ground with his free palm to send the red hot, fiery Bolts of Balthakk at his foe.

This time the attack hit him, blowing Strange off his feet; the room stabilized and Stephen recovered his stance as Strange sprung up to his feet. He was starting to feel weary, so Stephen again moved to end the fight by restraining him, this time sending eldritch bands to contain him. Strange was caught between them, but he twisted his hand up and grabbed the golden strands.

Stephen saw that flair of electricity from a source unknown to him just before an electrical shock coursed through his body. He shouted and collapsed, letting the bands go. As he staggered back to his feet, Strange's arms doubled, then tripled, then—

There were twelve copies of Strange surrounding him. Stephen just managed to surround his body with a shield as they began blasting him with a power that took the form of razor sharp knives that hit upon his shield from all sides with a relentless power.

His original plan was to wait until the Images of Ikonn retreated back into Strange when his power to maintain the spell came to its natural end, but they were unrelenting. Against all odds, even though it should not have been able to happen, the copies seemed to retain their full power for far longer than he'd ever heard of. Stephen stumbled to his knees as he felt the power of his shield failing; he could see the shards starting to penetrate rather than dissipate against the shield. He had to hold it up longer—

The shield failed and Stephen's body was pierced with two dozen different shards of magic, slicing through his skin and puncturing through muscle. The pain was so intense that he had no breath left to scream. Blood began pouring freely from several places across his body at an alarming rate.

The shards stopped quickly, but as he tried to get back to his feet, the Images threw eldritch ropes to surround his body and forced him immobile. His arms were pulled above his head and kept there like a grotesque marionette. He clenched his teeth against the pain.

It was then that Strange brought his copies to his true self and became one person again, though the golden restraints remained taut as if held by an invisible force. "At the current rate you're losing blood," he started conversationally, "you will likely be dead within five minutes. Consider your position carefully."

Stephen swallowed down bile and gathered his strength for his final words. "There is nothing to consider. You are abhorrent and have utterly betrayed your oath as a protector of this world and as a doctor."

His counterpart curled his lips upward in anger. "I can better protect this world than you ever could! You know nothing of the power I wield to fulfill that duty!" With those words, he blasted bolts of electricity towards the eldritch bindings.

He screamed in agony before the pain combined with the blood loss took its final toll on him. He lost consciousness with the grim knowledge that he would never wake up.

* * *

They found him. Nearly six months after discovering his identity and nine months after Pepper first fell into a coma, and they finally found Stephen Strange's base of operations.

The quinjet came closer to the ring of mountains that surrounded the old site of Novi Grad, now a large water-filled crater surrounded by abandoned ruins and the forgotten detritus of human life. "It's that damn HYDRA base," Tony muttered as he looked at the more precise coordinates of the magical energy picked up in this part of the world. "Why did it have to be here?" It was here that life really started to fall apart.

(So long as he didn't consider the bad experiences before the incident with Ultron and that little stone in Vision's head, but even through the worst of his PTSD and the poisoned arc reactor he had Pepper.)

Rhodey slowed down the jet as they ate the miles towards the fortress. "The place really has an 'evil lair' feel to it," he muttered. "Maybe these guys have their own secret web forum to point these places out."

"Can't let a good aesthetic go to waste," Tony drawled in reply.

Rhodey had that look on his face, that he was going to say something that had been said before. Ten seconds later: "I still think we should have brought Vision."

Tony groaned. "And I've already said a hundred times—"

"Two times."

"—that I'm pretty sure Strange can detect energy like some demented living radar. He would have never found my arc reactors otherwise. Besides, I don't want him anywhere near the Infinity Stone."

Rhodey's brow furrowed. "That's what Thor called that gem in Vision's head, right?"

"Yeah. He seemed pretty concerned about it and these stones being found."

"It would be nice if he left us a postcard with an update about that," Rhodey grumbled. "It's been years."

It _had_ been years since Thor and Bruce were last seen. He'd think Bruce dead if the whole Hulk-can't-die thing wasn't a, well, _thing_. Both could take care of themselves but he really would like to hear from them. Especially after everything that happened.

Speaking of.

"I'm going to scout the premise and see if anyone's home." He already had his suit on; he was ready to go and kick this guy's ass.

"Just the outside, Tony," Rhodey reminded him. "I'll land this bird and be with you shortly."

"Wilco," he replied, and the nanobots formed the facemask just as he jumped out of the back of the quinjet into the night sky.

It only took a few minutes for Tony to get to the former HYDRA base. "Scan for heat signatures," he murmured, and quickly looked through the buildings. A discolored blob was picked up in the highest building of the fortress and he flew in closer to get a better look. He frowned as it became clearer.

"Two heat signatures."

"What— did you say two? Since when did he get a partner?" asked Rhodey down the comms.

Tony frowned as he studied the outlines. "I'm not entirely sure that's what this is. I don't think they're fighting, but from what I've read about Strange, he doesn't seem the type to have a partner."

"Some sort of trade or business negotiation with someone? He has stolen a lot of uranium. I know a lot of terror cells that would be interested in that."

"Maybe," Tony mused. "Still, it could prove to be the perfect distraction."

"Roger that. Remember, Tony: wait for me. I'll be there in three minutes."

At one point in his life, he would have taken that order with a grain of salt. That was before Pepper was attacked. That was before his world was torn from him. Now he would take any tactical advantage to nab this son of a bitch, and Rhodey was very much a tactical advantage.

If they could just kill him, it would make life a million times easier. Unfortunately, everyone who knew anything about brains seemed convinced that the reason for Pepper's continued coma was related to magic.

So alive it was.

As Rhodey promised, he was there in three minutes. Scans of the floorplan of the building made it simple to find a way in and come at Strange from an advantageous position.

It was as they entered the building when Rhodey, who kept up the heat maps, said, "Wait. Something's happening."

Tony could see it too in his energy monitors. The low thrum of magical energy was now spiking, though there was something unusual about it. It was almost as if—

"It looks like they're fighting. And I think they're both using magic."

"Matches my readings," Tony confirmed. "So not partners?"

"This doesn't mean that the other one is on our side," Rhodey warned.

"Right. Approach with caution, then."

They slowed their approach and monitored the movement and readings from the fight as they went deeper into the building. It lasted about a minute before the energy readings went completely off the charts.

As Tony frowned at his UI, Rhodey said, "What the— something really weird happened with the heat signature monitor. I have no idea what the hell that is, but there is a large amount of heat surrounding them now." As suddenly as it happened, the readings went back to normal within another minute, just as they were about to get a visual on the scene. Rhodey muttered, "One's kneeling now."

They approached from a high walkway looking down into a room. The angle was bad, but Tony could get a general idea of what was going on. And it wasn't ideal.

Strange stood before a man bound immobile by what looked like glowing ropes. Even from here he could see that his captive was bleeding heavily, dangerously so.

"FRI, at the rate that man's bleeding, how much time do we have?" he murmured into his helmet.

"Less than five minutes, boss."

"Fine. I'll get Strange, you can save that guy. Whoever he is, he might know something. Got that, Rhodey?"

"Copy."

Strange started to speak but the audio didn't capture it. "Increase audio," he muttered.

The other man was now talking. "...consider. You are abhorrent and have utterly betrayed your oath as a protector of this world and as a doctor." Didn't sound like someone trying to negotiate a deal, that's for sure.

For whatever reason, these words struck Strange right in the core. He could find no recent footage of Strange beyond emotionless; now he knew what his anger looked like. "I can better protect this world than you ever could! You know nothing of the power I wield to fulfill that duty!"

Electricity flew from his hands. FRIDAY thankfully brought the audio levels back to normal before his captive began to scream.

"Going in three, two," and at one he blasted upward and delivered his own electrical shock towards Strange in the form of heat-seeking projectiles.

Gratifyingly Strange wasn't able to block all of them. Two he slammed and disabled with an orange shield conjured out of the aether, but three got near enough to him to release their stuns. He fell to the floor, dazed, but as Tony moved in to restrain him further, he held up his palms and sent a blast of air that threw off his flight stabilizers. When he straightened, he saw Strange starting to form that portal thing caught on a handful of SI's security cameras.

"Oh no, you don't," he muttered and sent a blast just to Strange's right to knock him off his feet. That caused the portal to collapse and for Strange to be thrown into another room. Tony flew in straight after him.

Strange was already on his feet, shield in front of him. He looked annoyed. "I have no interest dealing with you."

"Yeah? Too bad, because I'm here to deal with you. You hurt someone I care about and you're going to pay for it." Tony raised his blasters, ready to annihilate that shield before throwing several rounds of electrical stuns at him.

The sorcerer lifted his arms and Tony prepared his own shield to block the blow, but no blow came. Instead a shattering sound broke through the room and when he looked, Strange was gone and a distorted wall of some sort of translucent, magic material was in front of him. With a snarl Tony blasted at the weird mirror wall, but all it did was go through it and create a hole in the wall across the room.

"Fucking hell."

"He's gone?" Rhodey. Right.

"Yes. Some sort of… mirror wall." He had no energy for clever quips.

"Then I need you back here; you won't believe who this guy is."

Tony frowned. "I'm not in the mood for games, Rhodey."

"No games. You just won't believe me until you see him for yourself."

A minute later, he stared at the unconscious, spitting image of Stephen Strange as Rhodey completed applying the last of the pressure bandages. "Yeah, I'm not sure I would have believed you," he admitted. "This is… strange."

"I hope that wasn't a pun," the colonel muttered. "This guy's not out of the woods yet. We need to get him on the quinjet and stabilized ASAP if you want him to survive."

"Of course I want him to survive. You heard him; he was against Strange— the other Strange."

Rhodey carefully gathered the unconscious man in his arms. "Could be a trick or trap of some sort."

Point. "Could be," he answered. "That's why he's going into the magic cuffs while we save his life and figure him out."

With a heavily wounded man now in their care, they had no time to search the old base for any sort of hints as to where Strange may have gone and what he was planning to do. Tony doubted the guy left anything important out in the open that he would be able to get to without magic as it was, so did not see that as a major loss.

What was a major loss was being unable to capture Strange. He had hoped for once— just once!— that things would work out the way they were supposed to. He should have known better.

They got out of the fortress and into the quinjet within five minutes. The Strange lookalike did not stir once as they flew through the air and then settled him on the stretcher within the jet.

Rhodey strapped him stable to the stretcher and double-checked the bandaging while Tony got out and prepped the IV. He didn't remember the reason why they all got basic (and less basic) first aid training— it was sometime after the S.H.I.E.L.D blow up and before Ultron— but it had proven to be incredibly useful in tight places over the years.

He hung up the bag and let Rhodey figure out where to insert the IV while he went to find the magic-dampening cuffs he'd been working on over the last couple months. He didn't have a way to practically test them before so this was as good as any test run.

Before he got back to their— patient? Prisoner?— Rhodey interrupted him. "Wait, let me pad up his wrists before you put those on."

"Pad his wrists? Why?"

"His wrists and hands are all kinds of fucked up. Older hurts, but there's definitely nerve damage in both hands. I can feel the shaking."

"Even now?" Tony asked as he stepped forward again. Rhodey was padding the first wrist and he could see the extensive scarring in the brightly lit interior. "Wow. You weren't kidding." His eyes narrowed as he looked between the two hands. "Didn't Strange lose his job as a neurosurgeon due to fucking his hands up in a car crash?"

Rhodey paused in reaching for the second wrist. "Yeah, you're right." He stared at Strange's doppelganger with a frown. "This is getting weirder and weirder."

"One might even say that it was getting st—"

"Honest to God, Tony, you make one more pun and you're flying outside the jet."

"You say that as if it'd be a hardship for me."

Rhodey finished up padding the second wrist and went to get the diagnostics monitor as Tony cuffed him. The colonel scanned him and looked at the results. "Blood pressure's stabilizing, but his heart rate is still pretty low. A couple of those cuts were really close to organs and the colon, too, so I wouldn't be shocked if he had some internal bleeding. We need to get to the Compound as quickly as possible."

"Surgery?"

"Maybe. I don't know, I'm not actually a doctor. I think they do different things for different types of bleeding." Rhodey gave the wounded man one last look before heading over to the pilot's chair. "Strap in and keep an eye on him, Tones. I'll call the medbay once we're up in the air."

"I want Cho's team on this one," Tony said as he strapped himself into a seat beside the stretcher. "Let her know it's a case on a need-to-know basis. All medical files to my private server only."

Rhodey said, all sarcasm, "You mean we're not telling Ross about this one?"

He bit back with equal sarcasm. "No, we're not telling Secretary Ross that we took a detour from leaving that little shindig in Warsaw and went south to secretly capture an evil magician and found his twin brother instead."

"So status quo, then."

"Status quo."

* * *

So this story was inspired by an anonymous prompt given to amethyst-noir on tumblr and her imagining of the scenario, though naturally I have changed and tweaked things to try and form my own cohesive narrative. The prompt: "Stephen from a universe where Tony Stark is a villain, ends up in a universe where his own counterpart is a villain."

This was filled for the Stephen Strange bingo space "Villain Victory" and for the Bad Things Happen bingo space of "Near Death Experience".

While this particular story is finished, I am considering writing in this universe in other one shots or short stories, if anyone would be interested in seeing where this universe goes? The plot bunnies are definitely present, if there's interest.


End file.
